


Prehensility

by LA_Dmitri



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Eddie is a big bag of emotions, M/M, Venom eats Eddie's ass like a four course meal plus dessert, and then it gets Gay, but can you blame the guy?, but it's mostly just porn, it's got a little bit of cute mixed it, this is just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 10:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16638041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LA_Dmitri/pseuds/LA_Dmitri
Summary: Eddie Brock is far, far too old to be having wet dreams. Too bad he's got a shameless symbiote in his head, taking notes.





	Prehensility

**Author's Note:**

> I previously wrote a pure, sweet, domestic fluff piece. I figured it could use a companion piece comprised entirely of sexual content. You have been warned, this is purely smut. 
> 
> Also, as a shameless plug (since I'm poor), if you like my work, I am open for commissions! Find me on Twitter (@fvckingseraphim), or on Tumblr (luxolotl).

The first time Eddie Brock orgasms with Venom, is in his sleep.

He’s sprawled out on his bed, limbs akimbo in an odd display of unconscious copulation. His hands are anchors in a sea of tangled sheets and his one, too many pillows are flotsam that bump into his overheated body as he writhes. 

Venom watches this exhibition with piqued interest. They note the rise in internal temperature, the swell of Eddie’s pulse, the sweat that beads up on his throat and chest. They lean in close, letting the small waves of pleasure that roll off of Eddie infect them; throttled by the small, almost incoherent noises that pass over Eddie’s flush mouth. 

Venom has never seen Eddie like this before. While they’ve seen him with a fever and elevated heart rate, there is a lacking sense of danger or urgency or illness from within Eddie that they don’t understand. It is not an unwelcome confusion, rather an equally adoring and ravenous inquiry that makes Venom’s mouth water. 

They lean in, and whisper Eddie’s name in his ear. 

Eddie is awake in a matter of moments, sitting ramrod straight in bed. His chest heaves above the sharp contractions of his lungs, and his pulse quickens to a visible hum below his jawline. 

_ Good morning _ ,  _ Eddie. _ Venom's energy buzzes in the back of Eddie’s skull, despite his corporeal form  hovering mere inches outside of their body.  _ We have questions. _

“What? Um, mrph,” Eddie stumbles over his words and nearly chokes. He’s embarrassed by the wetness that grows between his legs. Venom takes note. 

Grinning, the symbiote leans in, running their tongue along Eddie’s jawline. There’s a new chemical mixture exuded through Eddie’s skin, they muse. It is different than fear, or anger, or even happiness. It is salt and velvet; it is the feeling of satisfaction. 

Eddie flushes a shade of pink he didn’t think was possible. 

The renewed stirring in his tangled guts does not help. 

_ Did we sleep well, Eddie?  _

Eddie hasn’t had to deal with too much of Venom’s teasing before. It’s mostly been a lot of name calling and returned affections, but this is a new face on the symbiote. As if Venom had access to some carnal knowledge that Eddie, himself, preferred to catalogue and age within the Akashic Records of his psyche.

He shifts. “I need to shower, Venom.” 

Venom pulls further out from their body. He forms an individual person that nearly encompasses every inch of unoccupied space on the bed. Alien viscera shaped into muscular legs dig deep into the mattress on either side of Eddie’s hips, straddling and pinning him in the same motion. 

“Woah, hey, Venom, what are you doing?” 

_ We saw this in Eddie’s mind. We saw this in our dreams.  _

Eddie's throat tightens with a toxic combination of mortification and arousal. He swallows what little moisture lingers in his dry mouth, choking down his bruised ego along with it. 

Venom leans further forward, wrapping their hands around Eddie’s wrists. Fingers morph into cuffs, rendering Eddie immobile, and incapable of fighting back.

Eddie hardly has time to register what’s happening before his hands are pinned into the mattress, still damp from his imaginative sleep. 

_ Do we like this?  _

It sounds like Venom is purring inside Eddie’s skull. Every tiny hair on his body stands on end, alert and anticipatory. There’s something threatening about the symbiote’s dominant behavior, but far be it from Eddie to muster up a “no.” 

Truthfully, he doesn’t want Venom to stop. He would much prefer that Venom keep  _ going _ . 

Desire, or what’s coursing through Eddie’s veins, is no secret. There’s nothing that Eddie thinks that Venom doesn’t know. And that fact causes Venom to grin, wider somehow, as he pulls the answer to his question from Eddie without the other having to make a single sound. They rest on the same wavelength, and it ripples and caps with every spiking heartbeat, every sharp inhale, every visceral reaction that Eddie provides to his Other.

Venom presses their bodies together. Close enough that Eddie’s heart is criminally frantic against the prison of his rib cage. 

Eddie tries to speak, but he can only muster a small whine that sounds like a polite encouragement. Something to grab hold of Venom’s enthralled attentiveness and pull him in by the throat. 

A small hiss ekes out of Venom. It sounds like the air trapped in Eddie’s lungs is escaping through rows of uneven teeth that glimmer in the predawn hours of a lazy Sunday morning. The world just outside Eddie’s window is still asleep, quietly breathing with small hints of life. A solitary car horn, an angsty crow, and the wind rustling the litter strewn about the alleyway. 

The peace outside, however, does not reflect the burgeoning chaos contained within the walls of Eddie’s shitty apartment. 

Venom presses harder on Eddie, creating a definite imprint of their tangled forms. The mattress squeals in protest of the action as though it were pained by the increased mass. Eddie swallows again, but his mouth fills with a thick coat of corporeal emotion. 

Anticipation tastes like a rich malt on the back of his tongue. At this, unwittingly, Eddie gasps. Venom grins and leans in with parted teeth, letting a single, controlled string of saliva drip on Eddie’s throbbing pulse. 

In this moment, time slows to a near stop. The only thing Eddie knows is Venom. 

_ We need you to agree, Eddie.  _

“...What?” 

Venom cocks their head to the side.  _ We cannot engage the host without consent.  _

Despite the heat pooling, quickly, in his abdomen, Eddie’s mouth trips over a surprised laugh. He nods, perhaps a bit too exuberantly. 

“Okay, Venom. Yes. Whatever this is...yes. Absolutely yes.” 

Eddie’s cells writhe with Venom’s vivacity. It electrifies him from the inside out, sending a shiver ripping through their shared body. Goosebumps spring up on Eddie’s arms like uniform rows of seeds, waiting to spring to life from beneath his skin. 

The drool that Venom had dripped on him is starting to slide down his slick throat, but the symbiote has other plans for it in mind. 

Venom’s tongue is equipped with prehensility he takes utter advantage of. The tip dances in the minute space that lingers between their flesh, wriggling and taunting as it encroaches on Eddie’s skin. The appendage is equally lacking the shame or patience as the organism it is connected to, and Venom drags their tongue along Eddie’s throat in a single, dripping swipe. 

The muscle curls around Eddie’s neck in a tight, yet malleable, hold. It makes Eddie squirm, but Venom’s firm hold on his arms, and their legs pinning his hips, keep him in one place. He gasps at the unfamiliar feeling of being at the mercy of the,  _ his _ , symbiote. 

“Venom,” he gasps, fingers curling into his palms. “Do they, uh, do this where you’re from?” 

_ Not like we are with Eddie _ , Venom susurruses, rattling behind Eddie’s eyes.  _ This is much more interesting. We haven’t seen Eddie this way before.  _

“Yeah,” Eddie laughs, nearly out of breath as Venom’s tongue pulses with life against his throat. “Yeah, me either.”

The tip of Venom’s tongue is busy exploring the unmapped territory behind Eddie’s ear. Thick strings of fluid are clinging in a wet trail, leaving evidence of the symbiote’s explorative nature. Venom’s prodding causes Eddie to squirm again, and he exhales into a small moan. 

_ We like this, Eddie.  _

It isn’t a question, and Eddie resigns himself to this, knowing full well that Venom isn’t wrong. 

“Yeah, love. Yeah.” 

_ Would we like something else?  _ Venom prods, flexing their tongue so it briefly floods Eddie’s brain with a threatened panic that easily melts into further arousal. Eddie’s fingernails are chewing red crescent moons into his soft palms. 

“Mmhm, love. Please. I’m guessing you’ve got, uh, some ideas?”

_ We have a few _ .  _ Our body is fascinating.  _

Eddie opts not to question what Venom is thinking, and tries to relax his taut muscles. He watches with hazy eyes as Venom’s arms recede from pinning his body, to slithering beneath the worn cotton of his sleep shirt. Several branches of the symbiote’s body form from the trunk of their massive chest, curling around the fabric and crawling up Eddie’s torso until the shirt has been worked up and over his head. 

Without much remorse, Venom haphazardly tosses the unwanted garment somewhere in the corner of the bedroom. Eddie wants to feel bad that one of his favourite shirts has probably disappeared into the various piles of clutter and debris taking up space on his bedroom floor, but his mind is hooked on watching Venom warm him up and strip him down. 

Black lines begin to form on his skin, wrapping around every curve of muscle and bone like secondary veins. Eddie can sense the mischief and curiosity that Venom emits like radio waves as his Other curls around his bare chest. Venom is exploratory, running a hundred small fingers along every tantalizing inch of Eddie’s body in new and delightful ways. They test areas of heightened sensitivity, touching and lapping at their lover as though his body would provide the key to sustaining oneself. 

Eddie makes small noises of approval as Venom works at his skin. His hands have turned over now, gripping at the sheets instead of his own palms. With a forceful push of his head, burying it into the pillows, Eddie lets his body sing small hymns of praise to the molecular bonding between Venom and himself. 

It isn’t until Venom’s tendrils brush over Eddie’s nipples that he groans with a heady desire. His chest heaves once while his lungs hold the air within hostage. Eddie’s brain is hardwired to want to cry out, but he bites it back when his teeth dig into his lips. 

_ We found a good spot,  _ Venom’s voice is like a song stuck in Eddie’s head. He hangs onto the words and lets a portion of his control slide into Venom’s sturdy grip. 

“Sure did,” Eddie adds, blushing at how stupid he thinks that sounds coming from dry mouth. His voice cracks, and he clears his throat. 

A fair majority of the tendrils continue exploring down, tracing the small lines of muscle carved into Eddie’s stomach, while a few single remain to curl around Eddie’s chest. Eddie gasps, his mouth opening and unhinging like an emergency release, as Venom prods at his hardening nipples. The warm alien viscera wraps around the sensitive skin, and laps at Eddie’s body as though it were finding God in the motion. 

Eddie’s back arches as sweat begins to shine on his forehead. He grips at the sheets until his knuckles pale, and lets out a tense sound. 

_ Frustrated, Eddie?  _

“Little bit,” he says through clenched teeth as his breath falls over his swollen lips like a waterfall. “Didn’t realise I was, uh, this in need.” 

Eddie chuckles, and the sound mixes with a soft groan. His heart is pounding in his ears, and the blood pulls from his chest to his hips. It passes over the bone and flows into his thighs, pooling there until it creates a direct line to his cock. 

Venom senses the shift and creeps down Eddie’s body like a shadow slipping from a wall. 

As before with his shirt, tendrils creep and curl around the fabric of Eddie’s boxers, pulling and tugging as though it were an obstruction. 

_ Eddie?  _

“It’s still a yes, Vee, but now it’s more of  _ fuck yes _ ,” Eddie shifts his hips, aching to be touched. His mind is mired in wanton desperation that burns him. Every cell, every miniscule fibre of his being, is crying out for Venom to envelop their body and wring him out. 

Venom is not kind or gentle with Eddie’s boxers. They ensnare the fabric and tear at the seams, removing the torn garment with a callous disregard. Eddie would be mad, but the relief from the boxers pulling on his cock blinds him to what might have been ingenuine anger. 

There’s something so twisted about their current engagement that wets Eddie’s parched mouth. He is shameless now, burning too hot for any remaining reservations to cling to him. The only thing he can think of is Venom, preferably swallowing him whole, in this moment. Eddie is hanging onto each and every present second as it occurs, dripping with sweat, drool, and precum. 

“Venom, darling, please,” Eddie goads, his voice heavy with a hunger he hadn’t brought out for previous partners. This is a new face on him, but he hardly minds. “Just fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me like you mean it. Goddamn,” 

Venom hisses. The sentiment Eddie expresses to him is nice, and the filth that leaves his lips is unusual but not unwelcome. But the real motivator for the symbiote is Eddie’s naked hips pushing up and against Venom’s body; rutting like a feral creature in heat. It is a primal expression that Venom salivates watching, and they can’t resist meeting Eddie’s demands. 

Venom’s tendrils slither away from Eddie’s chest, curling around his hips. At their point of contact, Venom binds their cells back into Eddie’s, slipping into his body and writhing against the heat that smolders there. 

“Uh, Venom?” Eddie picks his head up, watching as the tendrils disappear inside him, one by one. He can feel the symbiote working up to something, but it escapes the grasp of Eddie’s mind. His brows knit into a line above the bridge of his nose, and he huffs a sigh. 

“I thought you were going to--” 

Eddie doesn’t have time to finish his sentence. Venom has crept through their shared body, and slithered out the back, using the mattress as leverage to flip Eddie over onto his stomach. Eddie, in his surprise, brings his arms up to his head, tucking them neatly beneath his pillow while Venom materializes behind him. 

_ We will take care of us, Eddie, don’t worry.  _

Venom is few for words, but the buzzing sensation that courses through Eddie’s body gives away the utter delight the symbiote is taking from this situation. 

Venom pulls his essence into a form that is comfortable for both of them. He is much larger than Eddie, and the tips of his crafted fingers are claws that undulate with life. Still, Eddie can’t stop himself from stealing glances over his shoulder at the symbiote, marveling at how Venom can contain his chaotic energy into a tangible form. 

“I love you, Vee,” Eddie adds, unprompted. 

_ We love us, Eddie. Always.  _

Venom’s hands are gripping Eddie’s shoulders as they coat their tongue in a fresh layer of saliva. Claws drag down Eddie’s shoulder blades, earning Venom a small, delighted gasp. Little red lines appear on Eddie’s skin, which Venom soothes by running their tongue in a thick line over every disc in Eddie’s spine. 

Eddie buries his face into the pillow and moans, loudly. The unexpected action sends a new wave of shudders absolutely ripping through him, and Eddie once again, grips at the sheets as though he were in danger of floating to the ceiling. 

_ We saw this happen in Eddie’s dreams. Again, Eddie,  _ Venom coos, as though comforting their lover.  _ We will do it for Eddie again, but real. We will give Eddie exactly what we want.  _

Eddie mumbles something into the pillow that sounds to Venom like, “when did you get so damn good at dirty talk?” 

Venom’s tongue is still traveling down Eddie’s back, slowing it’s pace as they approach the little dimples above Eddie’s ass. Eddie is running out of patience, but is hanging onto his control by filling the room with muffled moans and breathless gasps of pleasure. Venom's energy twists and bends at the sounds, thoroughly pleased by the reactions they’re wrenching from their lover. 

Eddie turns his head to the side as Venom’s hands settle on his hips. Soft circles are being drawn on his skin in a near identical fashion that he has done to the back of Venom’s head while they settle in for sleep. It’s comforting to Eddie, even as Venom’s tongue is quickly approaching par with their hands. 

Venom’s tongue leaves a small pool of saliva on the small of Eddie’s back; an anticipatory gesture that sends Eddie to the moon. The liquid beads up and melts down either sides of Eddie’s hips, dribbling into the sheets. 

Venom has no intention of stopping or delaying further. They want Eddie, in a way that they haven’t wanted him yet. It is a new kind of desire that bounces back and forth between the two of them; leaving Venom as wetness pooling in their mouth, and leaving Eddie as gasping breaths and loud moans. 

In a single, fluid gesture, Venom has slid their tongue along the soft curve of Eddie’s ass and slipped in with the lightest nudge. 

Eddie’s chest arcs at an unnatural angle, and he curses so loud that he’s almost certain his neighbors heard it. 

Venom’s tongue is slick and warm as it massages the tight ring of muscle that sends Eddie into a panting, cursing fit. 

He isn’t used to this, not by a long shot. In his dreams, it felt different. Less tangible and more like grasping at a swirling mist that sucked him dry and made him cum at the drifting touch. But this, the real, interconnected and unimpeded wholeness of this, is far better than dreaming about it. 

Eddie can’t deny that he’s desperately in love with Venom. That much he already knew. But to see it manifest like this, the feeling of utter completion that accompanies Venom taking up real estate inside of their body in new ways, it sends Eddie head over ass over heels into devotion that teeters on the edge of something divine. 

Venom pushes his tongue further into Eddie, gently stretching him with the thickening width of their tongue. Everything is slick and moves easily. Venom is not focused on moving and servicing Eddie in a human scope. They twist and writhe inside of him, furling and unfurling with alternating pressure that leaves Eddie without words, or common decency. 

Eddie jams an arm underneath himself, pushing his shoulders up just enough so he can hinge at the waist, turning towards Venom. A single, eager arm reaches out, searching blindly for any part of his Other to establish contact with. 

His seeking palm meets the side of a vast spread of alien flesh on his skin, and he grips, holding what he can of Venom’s hand. Venom accepts and acknowledges this gesture as a speechless urging to continue, and thrums deep in their chest. 

The sound is guttural, hungry, almost animal in its expression. But Venom isn’t in a rush. They want to take their time with Eddie, to really earn the gasps and moans that spill from the man above him. 

Venom produces more saliva, lubricating their tongue as they search within Eddie. Human physiology is wired together with a few little tricks that buckle knees and drop the pits of stomachs. This was something Venom witnessed in Eddie’s dream state, and every rippling fibre of their being wants to replicate that. To witness Eddie gasping and gripping at the bed, in real time, while he’s consciously aware of the prodding tongue and deliberate movements would be nothing short of a heightened display of affection from Venom. They want this, nearly, if not more, than Eddie. 

Eddie tightens his grip when Venom’s claws dig into his hips, and their tongue is slithering further, deeper, inside of him. The precise agility of the tip of Venom’s tongue is exploring a sensory organ that, from their understanding, is enough to bring Eddie Brock to his faithless knees. 

“ _ Fuck _ !” Eddie yelps as Venom’s tongue laps mercilessly at his prostate, causing his body to collapse against the bed as his lower back draws up and in, completely involuntarily. 

Venom is pulling on Eddie now, bringing their bodies closer together. Eddie is quivering as a single shiver begins crashing over his thighs, and then creeps up his spine, until it’s taking his entire frame under. 

Eddie buries his face into the pillow and bites down,  _ hard.  _ He’s out of control now, unable to form coherent words or have any hope to catch his breath. Venom senses this in their lover, and applies more pressure, more internal movements. They’re exploring parts of Eddie that he has been notoriously shy about, yet holds a small preoccupation when it comes to pleasure seeking. 

Fascination falls to the backburner for Venom. For now, they are merely focused on the mounting pressure behind the muscles in Eddie’s abdomen. It is a sensation they are unfamiliar with, themselves, but it is not a feeling they would disagree with or wish to stop. 

Eddie’s turned out from the pillow, eyes sewn shut under the weight of his expression. Pain and pleasure mix in the cocktail of feelings that are shot up his spine, lodging into his central nervous system. He is drooling and gasping for breath, while loud, unabashed sounds spill from his open mouth. 

Venom sinks their teeth into the feeling, to satisfy a need they didn’t know they had. 

They focus, hard, on their movements now. Every single flick, every single curling tease, every direct thrust, are all carefully calculated in a macabre dance of other worldly sex. 

Eddie can hardly breath as the room closes in on him. He’s so fucking close now that Venom has stolen the words and air from him in a way no one had yet to do. His cock is throbbing, aching, desperate for touch, yet so deliciously unimportant with each burning second that swallows him whole. 

A final hard twist inside, and Eddie is gripping the bed with such strength that every muscle in his bicep is defined. He shouts Venom’s name as if he’d found salvation in the symbiote. 

Every atom in his body is absolutely on fire. Eddie feels his soul detach from his body, and he impregnates his sheets with weeks, perhaps months, of pent up sexual tension that had been manifesting in his dreams. 

Venom doesn’t stop. Not until Eddie is whimpering, not until he can hardly find the function of his lungs, and not until actual tears are forming at the corners of Eddie’s eyes. 

Venom doesn’t stop until Eddie begs him, in the weakest voice he’d ever heard, to. 

But when Venom does finally retract his tongue, and press an attempt at a kiss on Eddie’s low back, Eddie has buried his face into the sheets, and cries. 

_ Sad, Eddie?  _ Venom asks, perplexed, when mere moments ago Eddie had been rife with pleasure so tangible, it tainted the air. 

“Never,” Eddie squeaks out between sniffles and heavy breaths, turning out to speak at his Other. “Never.” 

_ Why do we cry, Eddie?  _

“Happens, Vee,” Eddie manages as his heart screams from inside it’s cage. “Emotions. Build up, then release.” 

_ Are we okay?  _

Eddie, despite the tears staining his cheeks, nods and smiles. “Yeah, love, we’re...good.” 

Venom rests their head against Eddie’s back. 

Silence, save for Eddie’s breaths coming down, fills the room. 

For a long moment, neither say a thing. Eddie’s the first to break the silence. 

“Venom,” he mumbles, absolutely spent. “Join me?” 

Venom nods, knowing the specifics of Eddie’s request. They relinquish their corporeal form, and melt into a series of thick tendrils that breach the layers of Eddie’s supple, flushed skin. 

Eddie rolls away from the evidence of their morning excapade. He’s laid out on his back, eyes closed, listening to the sound of his own heartbeat. Venom thrums in time with the pulsing muscle. 

Eddie splays his hands, flexes his fingers, and mumbles something about being held. Venom, without missing a beat, materializes between Eddie’s digits, enveloping his sticky forearm in the essence of their own. Eddie sighs, content. 

“That was,” he pauses, riding out a swell in his chest. “Amazing, love. Absolutely amazing.” 

Venom vibrates the molecules of their body, an expression of pure bliss. Euphoria is a strong word to describe their current state, but an apt one, nonetheless. 

_ Are we alright, Eddie? _

Eddie laughs. “Of course we are, Venom. We’ve never been this good before. Perfect, even. Shit.” 

Venom forms around Eddie’s torso, swathing him a tight embrace that speaks pages and pages of unbridled devotion; enough to fill up a library with its volumes. 

Eddie can’t help it. He laughs. Quiet, staccato, and hiccuping at first. But slowly, slowly, it bubbles up into his throat and bursts out with louder chuckles. It isn’t long after that, that Eddie is in a full on fit of laughter. 

Venom slinks out from their body, staring quizzically at Eddie. They say nothing, but the audible question mark that projects into Eddie’s thoughts brings his boiling laughter down to a quiet simmer. 

Eddie throws his arms around himself, capturing the drifting symbiote in the embrace. He smiles, wide enough that his lips are pulling away to reveal his coffee stained teeth. 

“Do you ever have a realization so goddamn profound that you lose yourself for a bit?” 

Venom cocks their head to the side. 

“I love you, Venom, I don’t want you to ever fucking forget that, okay?” 

_ Okay, Eddie. We won’t.  _

“No, I’m serious. I mean it.” 

It’s Venom’s turn to laugh.  _ We know, Eddie.  _

Eddie holds himself, and Venom, tighter. 

“Look, I’m just saying, but if you ever wanted to get married and have kids, I’d be down. Like, more down than I’ve ever been before. For anyone.” 

Venom takes that under consideration for a moment, and settles back into Eddie once more, nuzzling him from the inside. 

_ We will remember that, Eddie.  _

“Good,” Eddie says, smiling. “I hope that you do.” 

The second time Eddie Brock orgasms with Venom, he settles into his ravaged bed, comforted by his Other’s spirit resting within him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Dusts hands on pants. This is filthy.


End file.
